


The Politics of Desire

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), Rome (TV 2005)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Female-Centric, Frenemies, Politics, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 19:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6252070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is it desire for political gain, or politicking with games of desire?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Politics of Desire

Antony will come for her soon; of this, Atia has no doubt. But she can imagine that Egypt is ghastly, and finding surroundings that are acceptable for her must be a trial, especially with that Egyptian trollop nosing about and demanding Antony recognize her bastard as the son of Caesar.

Back-alley whore. Atia wishes she could have had the little bitch beaten, but diplomacy does matter, and Antony must be careful.

In the meantime, Atia is engaging in her share of diplomacy and intrigue in Rome. No one would ever be able to accuse Atia of the Julii of being idle and pining for her daughter's husband when there was political gain to be had.

Besides which, Atia knows her ongoing relationship with Laurentia Primativa, the barbarian tribal leader of Colonia Cylonum and Colonia Kobolis irritates Octavian to no end, and for that alone, Atia enjoys it.

Laurentia herself is enjoyable, too, particularly for a barbarian woman whose people simply appeared from nowhere, as far as the garrison in Cisalpine Gaul has it. They are eating a pear dessert and drinking wine while discussing Laurentia's latest meeting with Octavian.

"Of course he did exactly what you said," Laurentia says, laughing. Atia finds her slight accent very charming. "His eyes stared back at me as if I'd offered him a live bucket of leeches! You'd think a boy who relies on the women in his life as much as your son might see wisdom in giving them some small share of power."

"Octavian would weep if Mother had power as great as yours, Laurentia," Octavia says tartly, bringing Antonia, Hera, and Nikolaos into the hall. "He can barely control us as it is."

"Perhaps he should not have control of you," says Laurentia with her barbarian's scarce-hidden dismay over Roman ways. "You seem quite able to manage your own affairs, from all I've seen."

Octavia laughs. "You're a proper Amazon, Laurentia," she says. "And what do you think of it, Mother? Would you wish to be dictator of your own city-state, like our friend here?"

"I wish I were able to go where I might, and be damned to the trappings of power," Atia says thoughtlessly. "It cannot be so ill in Egypt as all that. Those dreadful people have survived there for centuries, why couldn't I?"

Octavia quiets down abruptly, and there is understanding and sympathy in Laurentia Primativa's eyes. Antonia breaks away from her mother, and runs up to Atia, petting her cheek gently.

"Don't be sad," Antonia says.

"I'm not sad, darling, I'm vexed. One day, when you are grown and have men to rule over you and love, you'll understand," Atia says with a wistful sigh. "Patricians are never so free in matters of love as plebs, dearheart."

"That I will drink to," Laurentia Primativa agrees with a hasty quaff of her wine. "Are the children being bothers, Octavia? I can watch them for a while."

"No, no, we're just out to the gardens," Octavia says with a quick nod of her head. "Come on, Antonia, we're going to show Niko and Hera how to make flower garlands!"

Antonia hugs her grandmother quickly, and then runs to follow Octavia, leaving Atia and Laurentia to look at each other and sigh slightly.

"Is it less complicated among your people?" Atia asks.

"No, love's no easier for barbarians than Romans," Laurentia says with a humorous glint in her eye. "I understand being vexed by loving a man who it is inappropriate for you to have. Of course, I played Antony in my own woes, bestowing favor where it was necessary for politics."

Atia nods. "What, did you bestow your favors to cement an alliance with one of your tribes while casting aside the beloved husband of your youth?" she asks.

"No, my affair was quite scandalous and politically unwise," Laurentia says with an evil smile. "By all rights, I was for the chief general of my people. A good man, and a friend. But...mmmm, this is SO embarrassing, Atia. I was in love with his son, Apollo."

"Apollo?" Atia asks, laughing. "What, was he a young god? I would have never guessed you to have such taste in lovers, my dear."

"Oh, he was divine, but hardly godly," Laurentia says with a bawdy laugh. "Twenty years my junior, love, and so devoted. I miss them both dearly, my Adamas."

Atia nods thoughtfully. "I am sure Antony will send for me. Perhaps he already has," she says. "Or he waits for better weather for the crossing to Alexandria."

"I'm sure that's true," Laurentia says gently. They are both quiet for a moment, and Atia feels oddly exposed to her friend and conquest -- for it is a coup to have Laurentia of Colonia Kobolis and Colonia Cylonum as her honored guest -- and suddenly cold as a breeze savages the air. "Brr."

"Oh, this will never do," Atia says, suddenly roused to a dizzy fit of anger at her vulnerability. "Come now, let's go find the dressing-maid. I think we ought to leave off moping for vexing men and amuse ourselves."

Laurentia rises in quiet assent to Atia's plan, and Atia tries to think what would make her feel better. A new gown, perhaps? New jewelry?

Antony inside her, yes. But he's in Egypt and Atia has no time to dally with lesser men.

"What do you think would be amusing, my dear?" Atia asks, unable to think of a thing. "I'm quite at a loss for how to entertain myself when all I want to do is..."

"A good solid roll in the hay," Laurentia says with her barbarian indelicacy that is still jarring and charming for Atia. She favors Atia with a kind smile. "I understand."

Atia suddenly seizes the woman's hand with her own. "Do you believe he will send for me?" she asks.

"Perhaps. Not until spring," Laurentia says with a look that sends a shiver through Atia. "I am so, so sorry. It's always difficult to balance desire and politics, I know."

"Yes, it is," Atia says.

What a situation to find oneself in, being quietly offered an afternoon's dalliance with the leader of a whole people. Worse yet, Atia herself is not loathe to do it for herself -- she is bored and lonely, and Laurentia has a generous set to her mouth and something of Antony's straightforward wanting.

But she is Atia of the Julii, mother of Octavian, and if Laurentia has a promising hint of Antony's sensuality, she also has more than a hint of the cold pragmatism of Atia's own son. This is not without implications, and when Atia rests her head upon her friend's shoulder with an arch smile, she is buying time to see which is mistress.

"I look ridiculous in all these gowns," Laurentia mourns. "I look like a statue."

"Well, perhaps then we will put you in a simple gown and adorn you in jewels," Atia suggests, lifting Laurentia's hair off her neck and setting it to one side. "You'd look well in some of my necklaces, and I've always liked the purple stones for your ears. And Octavia could provide a few bracelets..."

"And then out among the Romans, armored and glittering," Laurentia observes coolly.

"Of course," Atia says, bitterness seeping into her voice as they stumble into the dressing chamber to find the slave curled up, lazy slut. "Paint and disguise and illusion -- these are our womanly gifts in a world where men have such power."

She nudges the slave girl with her foot and ignores Laurentia's wince. "Laurentia Primativa and I will dine with Octavian tonight," Atia orders. "Find the gold-trimmed wine for me, and Laurentia Primativa will wear..."

"The white with a purple and gold shawl," says Laurentia boldly, not a quaver in her voice.

Atia turns to face her friend with a pleasant smile and sees a mask of composure and calculation. "It does not suit you so well as the green, or the red with embroidery."

"No, it doesn't," Laurentia says, sitting down on Atia's couch. With a strange and dreamy look in her eye, she lifts her hair, arranging it speculatively. "Oh, this is ridiculous. Come and help me think about what to put in my hair."

"Well, that really depends, darling. Are you playing a queen or a barbarian tonight?" Atia asks, joining Laurentia.

"I'm not playing. I'm dictator of Colonia Kobolis and Colonia Cylonum. No one among my people would dare treat me as an ornament," Laurentia says in a low voice as Atia's hands move through her hair, against the back of her neck, on her shoulders. "Take care the Julii don't make the same mistake, Atia."

Atia presses a kiss to the nape of Laurentia's neck. And another, and then a third and a fourth, though to arouse or pacify, she couldn't say, even as Laurentia's posture softens.

"I would never mistake you as an ornament," Atia says, meaning it as her finger traces the other woman's jawline.

"Good," Laurentia says, relaxed but unmoved to lust or pacification, as Atia ceases her ministrations. "Will Octavian?"

Atia almost laughs, though not at the question. Her little barbarian is a politician through and through, but can Laurentia Primativa really think Atia will betray her people and son for three months' companionship? Or sheer foolishness?

No; Laurentia expects her to lie. Atia is appalled and delighted -- the only thing better than a friend is a worthy enemy, and since Servilia's death, there have been none in Rome, not even that slithering little viper Octavian wed, who can match Atia of the Julii.

"If he listens to his womenfolk, perhaps yes," Atia says, petting Laurentia's arm. "He is a smart boy, after all."

Which is perfectly true and said without a hint of malice.

"I'm so glad to hear that," Laurentia says. "And to have such a good friend."

It has been so very long since Atia has had this feeling, and as she puts her hand atop Laurentia, she suddenly feels that perhaps spring is not so very far away with so much to enjoy now.


End file.
